


Can't Forget You

by ticklishivories



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Slight Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 06:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticklishivories/pseuds/ticklishivories
Summary: Vax gets into a car accident and wakes up next to a gorgeous man claiming to be his boyfriend– but it's a lie. Dorian's just his roommate and best friend, but Vax can't seem to remember a reason why they shouldn't be dating. He just knows he's incredibly disappointed.





	Can't Forget You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ajir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajir/gifts).

> (based on a prompt from this list https://docs.google.com/document/d/1N-y8dVqA4cozmW3ZFg6Zi1cGuOnpi4KECW1V8zJx7dY/edit 
> 
> Vaxus belongs to Ajir!

Vaxus stares out the window with a dent in his brow and confusion souring his smile. The back of his head throbs where sutures were left in his scalp and he wants to scratch the itch underneath the bandage strapped to his temple and shoulder, but otherwise, he’s fine. Just frustrated.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” Dorian says again, “but they wouldn’t have let me pick you up otherwise.”

“It’s alright,” Vax says quietly. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset that Dorian had to lie. It makes sense; roommate that happens to be best friend isn’t a sufficient title to be let in on a traumatic accident. There’s a lot of things that add up– no one else could pick him up, his sister is out of town, so unless he wanted to spend another night in the hospital Dorian had no choice but to lie. And yet something about it leaves Vax with an off taste.

“You’re being unusually silent.” Dorian looks over his shoulder before he makes a right turn. Vax’s gaze lingers a little too long on the muscles in his forearm. “The surgeon said your memories would most likely return. There’s no need to be worried.”

Vax knows that something is off about this; he feels that he should be comforting Dorian, not the other way around.

A ring goes off, shrill and buzzing. Vax jumps a bit– Dorian reaches into the center console and pulls out a phone.

“Hello, Val.”

_Val._

“Oh!” Vax reaches for the phone, and Dorian leans away. “Let me talk to her.”

“Keep calm, Vaxus! You still have a concussion.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, that was him. Clearly a collision with a speeding delivery truck wasn’t enough to knock his zest out.”

Vaxus sits back and folds his arms across his chest.

“He’s pouting now. No, there was no trouble. They accepted the lie rather easily, actually.” Dorian goes quiet, then clears his throat. “Well, that’s your opinion, and you’re entitled to it. Anyways, I think he’ll be fine to use technology after he rests. I’ll make sure he calls you first thing in the morning.” He smiles. “It’s my pleasure. Please, don’t thank me. Your brother…he’s worth it.”

Vaxus peers over at him, the ache in his chest drawing him away from the ache in his head for a moment. It’s deep and familiar, as if it’s grown roots in his body.

He remembers things fleetingly; he remembers driving away, and being upset. What about? Maybe something to do with the man sitting next to him, whose strong profile makes him stomach flip, whose small, sad smile makes his heart twist painfully. It’s not true, they’re not boyfriends. Not only that, it was a clever lie and made things easier for everyone.

But why does it hurt so badly?

Dorian leads the way to their apartment, even going so far as to open the door for him. Vaxus shoves his hands into the pockets, watching Dorian turn on the lights and set his hospital bag and medicines down on the kitchen table. Something about the action of Dorian removing his coat makes Vaxus’ eyes linger longer than they should his shoulders, so he pulls his gaze away to walk towards the end of the hall where he assumes his room is.

“Vaxus? You’re heading into my room!”

Vaxus feels like he’s hanging off the edge of a merry-go-round.

“I’m gonna puke,” he says, sure that Dorian can’t hear him from across the apartment, but in the time that he blinks Dorian is there, miraculously materialized, his warm hand on his back as he guides him to the bathroom.

“You just need some rest,” Dorian says softly, soothing Vaxus’ anxious chills. “Right as rain by the morrow.”

“God, your words.”

“Hm?” Insecurity creeps into Dorian’s voice. “What about them? I know I can sound a bit pretentious sometimes but I truly don’t intend it, you know how it is at my job working around such arrogant–”

“No, no. I like them.”

“My coworkers?”

“No, your words.” Vaxus waves his hand in the air flippantly. “Your elegance is charming. And your shyness about it is cute.”

“O-Oh. Well…”

But Dorian has no quip for that, even though Vaxus waits for it, standing slumped in the dark hallway with his hand on his back while trying to breathe deeply and evenly. He has a feeling that what he said was daring, overstepping some sort of unspoken boundary, but he doesn’t care anymore. Whatever stupid justification he made for himself to _not _flirt with Dorian was completely wrecked with the rest of him in the car accident.

And why the hell _wouldn’t _he flirt with this man? This sexy, easily embarrassed man who he’s lucky enough to have as a roommate and best friend?

Dorian carefully removes his hand. He stands straight and backs away, pointing towards the restroom. “The washroom is here, incase you’d forgotten that.”

Vaxus stares at him, dead-eyed.

“Right. Holler if you need anything. I’ll be…cooking. Something.”

“Cooking what?”

“Like it matters! People who’ve been in car accidents shouldn’t be sassing so much!”

He stomps off, and Vaxus can’t help but laugh, even if his head pounds.

Vaxus sleeps until late in the afternoon the next day. When he wakes, a glass of water with a slice of lemon is waiting for him on his nightstand. He gulps it down greedily, wipes at his mouth, and pushes himself out of the bed.

He needs a shower, urgently.

The hot water soothes his head. He touches his bandages and realizes they’ve been replaced; he peels them off, wondering if he asks sweetly if Dorian would replace them while he’s awake.

The thought of Dorian’s hands on his head makes the little blood he has left shoot straight down. He groans, not having the energy to take care of it this time.

…This time?

A fragment slides into place– of many other showers, and many other times he’s told himself he can’t, shouldn’t, touch himself after thinking of Dorian.

And all the times he did anyway, unable to look at Dorian afterwards.

This is wrong. Dorian is gay, his best friend, and Vaxus is–

Very obviously into him.

But he’s basically lied to Dorian about himself. How many times has he had to tell some story about a girl he’s met at a made up bar, just to cover up all the hours he’s spent thinking about taking Dorian out for a drink?

This is stupid. If he gets into another accident, he won’t have the chance to tell his best friend what he really thinks.

“Dammit,” he curses under his breath, and wonders how long he can stand under the spray before he turns into a giant prune. Vaxus shakes his head until everything inside it is thoroughly rattled, then soaps and rinses himself off.

Dorian is sitting on the couch reading when Vaxus emerges. When he looks up from his book, Vaxus has the pleasure of seeing a blush rise like a thermometer from his neck to his ears and all the way to the top of his head.

Probably because the only thing maintaining his modesty is the towel clinging to his waist, but who knows?

“Hey,” Vaxus says, unable to stop his smirk from growing. Dorian nods, visibly having to pull his eyes away from his wet abs and down to his book. Vax approaches him. “What are you reading?”

“Just…a romance.” Dorian clears his throat. “Quite silly, but fun.”

It’s strange that he doesn’t elaborate more; Dorian’s always loved gushing about new reading material. Vaxus decides to change the topic. “Um,” he continues, his heart beat quickening. “We need to talk about something.”

“Hm?” Dorian doesn’t look away from his book. But his voice is higher pitched than usual, as if it were gliding atop a thinly frozen lake. “And what would that be?”

Vaxus lets out a long breath. He braces himself. “Uh, I don’t remember much. Surrounding the accident.”

Dorian goes still.

“But I remember that I’ve been avoiding you.”

He approaches the couch, sitting down slowly enough that Dorian has no choice but to look at him. Vaxus touches his knee, and Dorian’s eyes lock on it.

“I haven’t been honest about something.”

“No,” Dorian whispers. “No,” louder. “I don’t think you’re in the correct state of mind.”

“I think the accident finally shook something straight inside my head.” Vaxus laughs at the accidental pun, but he can tell Dorian doesn’t find it funny at all. He’s leaning away, sinking back against the couch. Vaxus’ hand slides an inch up his thigh– barely any movement, but enormously significant. His heart thunders in his chest. “Dorian…”

“Wait, hold on a moment–”

“I was so disappointed when I found out we weren’t an item,” he continues, “and I had no idea why, but I do now.”

“Vax…”

“I really feel like this was meant to happen. Even though it was a lie, those few moments where I believed we were together…felt right.”

Dorian is staring at him, wide-eyed, backing away. Vax’s heart sinks. It hits him what he’s doing; pushing his best friend down with his barely clothed body, literally trapping him against the couch. He retracts his hand, standing up as his cheeks flood with heat.

“S…Sorry.” His hand won’t stop tingling, so he pushes it through his wet hair. “I’ll put some clothes on.”

“Vaxus,” Dorian sighs. More than tired, he sounds…sad. Vaxus’ heart cracks as he looks at him. “Maybe you should rest some more. What you went through was traumatic. You wouldn’t…” He shakes his head slowly, as if resigned. “You wouldn’t be saying these things if you knew everything.”

There are gaps in Vaxus’ memories. He doesn’t know what lead to the accident, or anything before Dorian picked him up from the hospital, but he does know that whatever stupid reason he was keeping his secret from Dorian never mattered to begin with.

A tension lingers in the air throughout the day and into the evening. It’s familiar in a way that makes Vaxus feel cold all over, like a premonition. He changes his own bandages in the bathroom, hissing as he reveals the blackened stitches and bruises along his shoulders and arms. His eyes are red.

He remembers something– Dorian’s red eyes, withholding tears, as he told Vaxus that he couldn’t live with him anymore.

“Oh,” Vax says aloud. He clutches his chest as a wave of nausea rolls through him.

His head pounds. Memories flood into him and he gasps as if drowning.

The yelling. The tears. The begging– who’s begging?

_Stay. Don’t go._

Dorian wanted to leave. He said he couldn’t take it anymore, but never said why. Vaxus had needled him to the point of shouting, until–

He left the apartment–

He’d been so hurt, so distracted–

And then the accident.

“Dammit,” he curses, holding his head as he leans over the sink.

“Vax?” Dorian’s voice comes through the other side of the bathroom door. “Everything all right in there?”

Vaxus takes a deep breath.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“The phrase ‘I’m fine’ has never been uttered in total honesty in history, Vaxus.”

Actually, fine is an understatement; he hasn’t felt better than he’s felt in days. Maybe even weeks. “My stitches hurt, is all.”

Dorian tsks, then opens the door, surprising Vaxus. He’s in his night clothes, smelling of mint, and Vaxus’ heart skips a beat.

“Let me see.”

Dorian takes up the bandages from the counter and grabs Vaxus’ arm, directing him to sit on the toilet as he takes his head in his hands and inspects the stitches. Vaxus feels himself flushing and keeps his eyes down, painfully aware that he’s shirtless.

Dorian’s hands are warm and gentle. He delicately dabs a soaked cotton ball onto the wounds, his fingers sifting through his waves of hair and pushing the strands away. His eyes are focused, lips pursed in concentration, and Vaxus has a desperate need to kiss him.

He’s in too deep. Can’t turn back.

Can’t lie to himself about this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

Dorian doesn’t stop touching him. “For what?”

“The fight.”

Now, he slows.

“You wanted to move out, and I acted so...childish.” He closes his eyes. “I made things harder for you.”

Dorian’s palm holds the side of his head. “Yes, you did. But,” he sighs, “not for the reasons you think.”

Vaxus looks up. Dorian is gazing at him, smiling, but his grey eyes shine with sadness.

“You said things earlier today that I’ve only dreamed of hearing,” he whispers. “And that’s all I was sure they ever would be. I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear to live here anymore. Not with you.”

Vaxus places his hand over Dorian’s.

“I wanted to move on. Towards you, I’ve been…for so long–”

Vaxus fills in the gaps. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heartbroken.

“I don’t want to hear an apology from you.”

“No, Dorian.” Vaxus leans up, bringing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry…for not telling you. For making you wait.”

Dorian’s voice trembles. “The accident, your head– you’re not in the right state–”

“I’ve never been clearer,” Vaxus says firmly, and waits until Dorian slides his eyes open and looks at him, before kissing his lips. Dorian gasps softly. “Believe me.”

There’s so much hurt in Dorian’s gaze, so much hesitance in his touch. But there’s hope, too, and Vaxus pours into his kisses all the feelings he’d been withholding, the thoughts he’d been too afraid to think, and hopes that Dorian can trust him with all that he’s giving.

Dorian’s sigh is more of a whimper. When both his hands come up to cradle Vaxus’ head, Vaxus pulls back.

“Ouch,” he grimaces.

“O-Oh! Did I touch something I–”

“Yeah, just a bruise–”

“I’m so sorry, let me finish bandaging this–”

Dorian’s face is redder than a ripe tomato’s. Vaxus laughs, not caring about the pain in his head at all. He laughs and laughs, holding Dorian around his waist as he finishes wrapping the bandages.

They’d talk more about it later. For now, he’s more than happy to just listen to Dorian’s fast, happy heart.


End file.
